


you love me real

by orphan_account



Series: again and again [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Committed Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Grief/Mourning, Humor, References to past trauma, Romance, Some angst, The Author is Emotionally Attached to These Characters, academia au, dealing with parental death, the author is coping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-08 23:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18905167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Several life times later, their souls are still knit together. Tighter than before.A rupture in Brienne's family casts their relationship in a new light. Brienne takes Jaime home to Tarth. A romantic tragi-comedy, a light story with heavy topics.Check the beginnings of chapters for trigger/content warnings (i.e. references to past self harm, violence, etc).





	1. A Call You'd Rather Not Take

_content warning: this chapter contains references to dementia and parent death_

She self-adopted a uniform for teaching. Trousers (usually a pinch short), mens loafers or oxfords, button down shirts (fastened to the throat) and blazers (usually a pinch big). Few things gave him as much pleasure as watching her shed the carefully constructed armor. At the end of the day she exchanged it for the casual wear usually waiting on the top of her dresser…or stolen from his closet. The moment was always so soft. Warm. It became his favorite part of the day.

 

He usually beat her to wherever they were meeting by five or ten minutes. Apartments. Offices. Cafes. Restaurants. Bars. Anywhere. So hearing her moving around his place at 5 pm on a Friday night with all the lights off made him jump out of his skin a little bit.

 

Her clothes were on the floor, making a trail to the bedroom. The uniform was deconstructed…but it didn’t fill him with warmth like it usually did. When he stopped moving he could hear her gasping for breath in the back of the space. Crying. He dropped everything on the couch and moved as quick as he could, blood running cold. She was sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed, wearing one of his knitted sweaters over her workout leggings, flushed and embarrassed at having been found in such a state.

 

“S-sorry.” She murmured, scrubbing at her cheeks. He found his own words stuck in his throat. He sat on the floor next to her and held out his hand, asking permission. She couldn’t move her eyes away from the floor. He moved his palm to her cheek, gently moving her gaze up and touching his forehead to hers.

 

“Hey…it’s okay.” He said, running his thumbs under her eyes as more tears spilled from her lower lids. “Just breathe.” She blinked a few times. He watched her eyes gradually focus on him. She took a deep shuddering breath and pressed his hand more firmly against her face, clasping his wrist in a hard grip. “Hi.”

 

“Hi.”

 

“There you are." He kissed her forehead briefly before continuing to scan her face. "It’s okay. It’s just me.” He soothed.

 

“Just you.” She choked on what might have been a laugh. “I’m in your bloody apartment.” He smiled.

 

“Yah you are. Come here.” He wrapped his short arm around her waist and pulled until she was against his chest and in his embrace, framed by his legs. She curled around his forearm, bringing her knees to her chest and making herself smaller. She pressed her face to his neck. The sunlight fighting to get through the blinds was growing long and orange. “Oh Brienne.” He hummed.

 

“My father died today.” She whispered, absolutely shattered.

 

“Oh fuck.”

 

“Yah…” She tilted her face away and coughed. “And I don’t know what to do.”

 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You don’t have to.” She had no reply. She laid against him and wept quietly. He held on tight, sensing the thoughts probably racing through her head. _Funerals. Work. Family. Endless to do lists. Hurt. Lots of hurt. Excruciating. Thick. Endless. Hurt._

 

“Brienne.” She tilted her chin up to rest it on his shoulder, taking deep shuddering breaths. She slipped her arms up and curl them around his neck. He tucked his chin down to kiss the soft crook of her elbow. Her hard bicep. Her forehead. “I love you.” She pressed her lips to his neck. 

 

“Tell me what to do, Jaime.” She entreated. He rocked them back and forth while he contemplated.

 

“Stay here with me. Call the chair tomorrow. I’ll proctor your students’ finals.” She hummed. “You can fly out to Tarth in the morning if you want to. I’ll pay for first class non-stop…and I’ll follow you down in a week to help.”

 

“The home-“ She cleared her throat. “The home he was in can help.” She sat up, leaning against him but looking at him properly now. “I need to proctor my final exams. I already took time off early in the semester when he went in the fucking place.”

 

“Damn.”

 

“It’s okay.” She reassured him. He dried her cheeks. “I’ll call the chair in the morning. I’ll leave as soon as finals are over, take my grading with me. He wanted to be cremated, I’m sure I don’t have to be there for that.” Jaime hummed agreement.

 

“I’ll go with you.”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“I want to. So I will.” She closed her eyes. Leaned her forehead against his.

 

“ _Jaime_.”

 

“You don’t have to be alone, Bri.” He said. She bit the inside of her cheek.

 

“Okay.” She whispered. 

 

“Okay?”

 

“Okay.” She twisted the collar of his shirt between her fingers. “We’ll have to tell the university.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Us. We have to disclose. Both of us taking time off at the same time. I’m sure people will talk.”

 

“Are you worried?”

 

“A little.”

 

“I hardly think it’ll be an issue.”

 

“I hope not.”

 

“And if it is? Fuck it. I’ll hand you my tenure contract and walk myself out.” She raised an eyebrow. And then giggled.

 

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

 

“Damn.” He huffed for effect. She kept smiling. “I understand why you might be anxious about that. But I don’t care who knows. I love you." He held her chin so she couldn't dodge his gaze. "And I could shout it in anyone’s face. Actually, I have. At Tyrion. I think.” She snorted, wiping at her eyes. “You’re so valued by this university. And I’m the highest research grant earner four years running. Not to mention, the tenured faculty with the highest student ratings in the department.”

 

" _Rate My Professor_ websites don’t count. You can write your own reviews.”

 

“Shush. They can’t touch us. I know you feel like you’re in free fall...but..." Her lip quivered. She bit down on it. He rubbed her knees before leaning down to kiss one. He left his cheek there and looked up at her. “Stay with me this week. Take me home with you next week.” He sat up and picked up one of the hands clasping the back of his neck. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it. Her palm. Her fingers. “I’ve done my fair share of funerals and worked through my lion’s share of grief. I can help you.” She laced their fingers together and gave him a soft, grateful look. She leaned in to kiss him chastely.

 

“I must have been awfully good in a past life.” She wondered out loud, looking more herself but with tears still falling freely down her face.

 

“I'm sure."

 

"What did I do?"

 

"Hmmmm. Fought wars probably.” He said, kissing her chin, trying to get her to smile again. It worked.

 

“Wars?”

 

“ _Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably_.” He quoted.

 

“Shakespeare?”

 

“Look at you. What play?”

 

“Much Ado About Nothing. Don’t ask me the line number.” She sighed. He chuckled.

 

“I imagine we met over swords. Probably on opposite sides before you seduced me across lines to your own cause.” She rolled her eyes and laughed again.

 

“You’re a mess…I’m a mess.”

 

“Simply meant to be.” She rested in the crook of his neck again, tracing her fingers across his jaw. Outlining his chin and lips.

 

“I shouted when they called me.” She admitted. “I was so scared. And angry. And sad.” She paused. He waited. “My father hasn’t been my father for years now. But it got really bad last year. He stopped recognizing me last Christmas.”

 

“Is that why you stopped going so often?”

 

“Yes. I didn’t know how to deal with it. I wasn’t strong enough. He was sleeping almost all day. Barely conscious when he was awake. Non-communicative. I wonder though…if he was scared. If he even felt it. They said he didn’t have any last words. He went in his sleep. A lot of dementia patients go like that.” He stroked her hair. “I should have been there.” She sniffed.

 

“I don’t think anyone wants to be remembered like that. Would you?” She shook her head.

 

“The last time I was with him, he smiled.” She remembered. “And he gripped my hand when I told him I loved him.”

 

“That. Remember that.” Eventually they got up off the floor, legs and asses numb and cold from sitting on hardwood so long. He wordlessly ran a shower. Extra hot. They shared it. Her tears finally dried after they toweled off. He ordered a pizza and poured them both a glass of ale. He put something mindless and low on the TV. They sat on the couch. She laid down with her head in his lap. He tossed a throw blanket over her legs and combed his fingers though her hair, draping his other arm over her stomach. She religiously maintained an undercut and applied minimal maintenance to her hair but her pale blond stands were starting to grow out and get curly at the ends, framing her cheeks and jaw just so when they weren't combed back.

 

“Are there any other Evenstars left in Tarth?” She pondered his question a moment.

 

“Not that I’ve know of. Childhood friends of my father, maybe. But people tend to come out of the woodworks when things like this happen, don’t they?”

 

“Longest presiding president of Tarth University. Four PhDs in three disciplines. Author. Researcher. Speaker. Teacher. Policy maker. Advocate for the marginalized. Internationally beloved expert in international law. Selwyn Evenstar was a legendary man.” She smiled, fidgeting with her tumbler on the coffee table and straightening a stack of ungraded papers. She folded her arm behind her head and looked up at him.

 

“I wish you could have met him five years ago. You two probably would have gotten on.”

 

“Started reading him in undergrad. Cited him twice in my dissertation.” Her eyes widened at his admission. 

 

“I didn’t know that.”

 

“Somebody didn't read past the abstract." He teased. "His articles on the transgressions of war etiquette in speech were exceptionally helpful. I loved his work.” Jaime shrugged. “Almost as much as I love his child.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s superficial, but I see so much of him in you. What I know of him through his writing at least.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Tenacious. Spirited. Nuanced. Contemplative. Gravitas but with that beautifully dry humor. And brilliance to spare.”

 

“I don’t know what to do with myself when you’re this nice to me.” He chuckled, pinching her cheek playfully. “Jaime…you’re the love of my life.” It felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs. He watched her eyes fill with tears again. She was smiling weakly, trying to blink them back. “I’m really scared. I’m frightened. I feel like I’m going to be sick.” He kept stroking her hair. She copied his gesture from earlier, picking his hand up and bringing it to her lips. His other arm was still draped over her waist. She stroked the place it ended, just above his wrist, probably still achy from another long day strapped to a prosthetic hand. Her touch was light, gentle. “Don’t leave me now.”

 

“Brienne-”

 

“I mean, if you were planning on it…I’ll really need you for the next few weeks.” She attempted to joke her way out of it. He touched her chin, stroked her jaw.

 

“Listen here woman. Never have, never will.” There was a tap on his door that made them both jump a little. He slipped out from beneath her to get their food. They ate in silence. She didn’t swallow a lot, but some. Enough. She laid on his chest again as he flipped channels afterwards, taking up residence under his chin and stealing sips off the top of his whiskey.

 

“Today is Friday.” She remembered.

 

“Mmmmm.” He kissed the top of her head.

 

“I don’t have enough clothes here to get to Monday.”

 

“I’ll go to your place tomorrow morning. Need to pick up some groceries anyway. You can stay in bed.” He took a long drink and then offered her another sip. She took it. 

 

“I don’t need to be babied.” There was no bite in her protest, but something heavier. A twinge of self-consciousness. He swept his short arm up and down her back in long circles.

 

“You’ll need your rest, Bri. We only have Saturday and Sunday. Monday and Tuesday are university reading days but we both have office hours all day.” She grunted as she remembered. Department policy. “And then we’re running those test sessions, finishing the semester project grades, starting the finals as they get handed in, hauling our asses out of Westeros and across the ocean, making calls and arrangements, getting those grades in on time…not to mention the energy deficiency you’re already running from this long ass semester trying to get tenure getting compounded by everything you’re feeling right now.” She took a longer drink from his glass.

 

“I’ll stay in bed.” She agreed. He chuckled.

 

“I know its against your nature to rely on anything I say-“ She sniffed and kissed his chest. “But now’s the time to rely on what I can do. Another hand and another brain. Divide and conquer, alright?”

 

“Alright.” 


	2. Matching Boarding Passes

Their rhythm was quiet.

 

Saturday she bawled and groaned and grieved.

 

Sunday she slept. He bought plane tickets.

 

Monday and Tuesday they worked till the exhaustion was bone deep. They held their office hours, doors open per usual so they could talk to each other across the hall in the rare quiet moments. Instead of teasing and harassing each other they traded soft glances and ran test questions past each other as they fine tuned their last exams. They comforted and babied their students through the last of their studying.

 

True to Jaime’s prediction, the literature department of Riverland University was wonderfully accommodating to their announcement and their plan. The current chair of their discipline was a serious old broad from the North, but was a childhood friend of the late Catelyn Stark. She had a soft spot for Brienne over all of the adjuncts and probably most of the faculty. Everyone knew the tenure process was just a formality. She pulled Brienne down into her arms for an embrace the minute she walked into her office Monday morning.

 

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday they sat through the 4 hour testing blocks for all 3 of their classes. His last session finished earlier than hers. He killed time in her office.

 

He attempted to grade but the words were truly running together. He picked up his phone and checked on their flights to Tarth. They were set for 7 am tomorrow morning out of Harrenhall. Everything was running on time. An incoming call from Tyrion broke the silence.

 

“Senator Lannister, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He began.

 

“How is she?”

 

“Tired.”

 

“And you?”

 

“Nervous.”

 

“Whatever for?”

 

“I’ve never liked flying.” Tyrion chuckled.

 

“Bullshit, Jaime.”

 

“I just want to make it alright.” Jaime said after a long pause.

 

“I’m betting you’re doing alright.” Tyrion's voice turned warm.

 

“How so?”

 

“She didn’t have to pay for plane tickets.” Jaime snorted and rolled his eyes, scratching at his beard inefficiently with his prosthetic hand. He held the phone between his cheek and shoulder to take the false limb off. He crammed it into his messenger bag.

 

“Be serious.” Jaime said, rubbing his now exposed wrist as he rolled his sleeve up.

 

“Alright, alright. Serious.” Tyrion swore. “When you first told me about her, I thought she might be different. And when I saw you two last week I knew for certain. Something's...different. I mean, you bring out the best in each other and I think that’s beautiful.” Jaime was momentarily speechless. “Have you told her you love her yet?”

 

“All the time.”

 

“Does she say it back?”

 

“Usually.” The brothers chuckled. “I love her, Ty. Beyond any way I could describe. When I look at her I see…everything."

 

“I’m proud of you Jaime. And happy for you. Truly." He cleared his throat. "Anyone who can look at a Lannister and stick around more than a week is something special. Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I spoke with Stark. We can make time for a ceremony if Brienne decides to host one. Well, I’m sure the Tarth University people will hold one regardless. So if she wants familiar faces in the throng…”

 

“She’d appreciate that. I would too.” Jaime smiled. “Which Stark? Sansa?”

 

“The sisters. Both.”

 

“Good. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

 

“Let me know if you need anything. Especially if it’s for her. ”

 

“Will do.”

 

“Save travels, Jaime.”

 

“Thank you Tyrion.” There were a few beats of silence until he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Brienne looked surprised to see him, nearly dropping her stack of completed exams.

 

“Your light is out…thought you left already.” She explained around a yawn.

 

“And walk home by myself? In the dark? Outrageous.” She smiled warmly. “Ready to skip town, Professor Evenstar?”

 

“Give me a minute.” She stacked all her papers in a briefcase, cramming in her laptop and various charge cords. He shouldered it along with his own, equally overstuffed one. He took her hand after flicking off the lights. They were the first ones out of the department that evening. Their colleagues sympathetically waved them off, some whistling good-naturedly. Her grip on his hand tightened, fingers falling between his. He smiled.

 

When a professor stopped them on the quad to express his condolences she kept holding on to his hand. He swept his thumb against hers, pressing the back of her palm against his thigh. She gave his hand a firm squeeze as the conversation ended and they started walking again.

 

~

 

The flight attendant on the jet recognized her, approaching them both after takeoff. She brought them both coffee, unrequested, careful to set them down somewhere they wouldn’t spill on the papers they were grading.

 

“Is your last name still Evenstar, Brienne?”

 

“Yes?” She was a perky young woman with dark hair and eyes, more than likely fresh into her twenties.

 

“You probably don’t remember me. Archie Goodwin is my Uncle.”

 

“Gods… _Rosie_? I haven’t seen you since-“

 

“I was wee babe. Five or six.” Rosie perched herself on the edge of the empty seat across the aisle from them. “You look fantastic. I just wanted to say I’m so sorry about Selwyn, Gail sent me an article from the New North Times this morning. Tarth owes him ever so much.”

 

“Thank you.” Brienne said softly, genuinely touched. “How is Archie? And Gail? I was just thinking about her the other day.” Jaimes perked at the mention of Gail, the only name he had ever heard Brienne mention when she talked about Tarth. A childhood best friend, he assumed.

 

“Archie’s still kicking around the old farm.” Rosie beamed. “And Gail’s doing really well. Always working, but it makes her happy. I’m spending the next week with them the both. I’m off the clock once we land. You should come over for dinner. The whole family will be there.”

 

“I’d like that very much. Thank you. Give me your number.” Rosie took Brienne’s phone and programmed it in.

 

“What are you doing these days?”

 

“Teaching. At Riverland University.”

 

“Oooh what about?”

 

“My research is in medieval texts and women’s history, so I’m teaching introductory literature courses on both of them at the moment.”

 

“That’s fascinating. Is this handsome fellow also on your syllabus?” She winked at Brienne, extending a hand to Jaime.

 

“This is Dr. Jaime Lannister.”

 

“Riverland’s idiot in residence.” He introduced himself, shaking her hand firmly. Rosie snorted.

 

“Journalism studies.” Brienne corrected. “With quite a bit of attention to the public invective as a political rhetoric tool throughout history.”

 

“Insults.” Jaime translated.

 

“What a match set.” Rosie teased them. “I’ll leave you alone now. But I mean it, last thing anyone wants to do during times like this is cook or live off junk food. You call us up. You're family.”

 

~

 

They got to see the sun rise over the ocean. Brienne pressed her cheek to his shoulder as they both nearly blinded themselves watching the horizon through the plane window. He ran his hand soothingly up and down her thigh. She looked exhausted, so he didn’t press the matter of her connection to their flight attendant.

 

There was a lot to be done today. They needed to rent a car and drive an hour and a half up the coast to get to Brienne’s hometown. She needed to see her father’s lawyer, get keys to her childhood house, get it livable enough for short term habitation, and pick up all the necessary paperwork. The will needed reviewing. They needed to pick up the ashes too.

 

The rest of their time would be spent parsing out the house and assets- what was for selling and what was for keeping. Brienne hoped to get it all done in two weeks, but she hadn’t decided if she was up to hosting a ceremony yet. They would play that by ear.

 

He planted a few clumsy kisses on her temple. She smiled and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.  


	3. Kiss the Threshold for Good Luck

_content warning: references to past self harm, child/infant deaths, and child abuse_

 

He put on his ray bans and opened the sunroof of the jeep they had rented for the trip. Brienne flicked on the radio as they pulled off the interstate and onto the country access road that ran on a narrow strip between the coast and the national forest. The ocean was sparkling blue on the soft stoney shores. It was tossing sapphire light under the cloudy sky. And the trees were achingly green and lush.

 

“My father used to pay scads looking for places like this to vacation in and this was under his nose the whole time.” Jaime said.

 

“He saw that nobody on this island owned a proper yacht and kept on sailing.” Brienne replied. Jamie chuckled.

 

“Probably true. He always hating fishing. And fisherman. And their boats.” She felt his prosthetic hand slide over her knee. She clasped his false fingers before letting her own trail up and down his arm. “It’s beautiful, Bri. Really beautiful.”

 

“It is, isn’t it?”

 

The wind tossed their hair. And the ocean sounds were mesmerizing. “They say you can never go home again.” She said. He mulled over it.

 

“It’s never the same.” He agreed. “But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” When he glanced at her she was smiling at him. It made his heart pump a little faster.

 

“Watch the road.” She chastised him.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

~

 

Tarth University was located in a historic little college town just twenty minutes outside of the capital city. It was a quiet little place called Evenfall Hall. Sleepy. Empty of most of the student life now that the term was over. It was where Selwyn Tarth raised Brienne.

 

The visit to the lawyer’s office took less than an hour and they only left with three files and one dossier of documents to go through. They got brunch at a diner afterwards. Brienne fingered the key ring he had returned to them and refrained the urge to absorb herself in the files and legal documents and to do lists. The key was hooked onto a leather fob with her father’s initials on it.

 

“He always tooled his own leather. Wallets. Bags. Saddles. My headbands when I was a girl.”

 

“I’ve never even seen a picture of you younger than undergrad.” He said after a too-big bite of hash browns.

 

“Oh I’m sure you’ll get your fill.” She nodded towards the keys before dropping them on the table and wrapping her hands around her coffee mug.

 

“Did you like it here? Growing up?” He asked abruptly. She looked out the window. The small downtown strip was quaint. At this time of day the retirement age crowd was milling about.

 

“I didn’t want to leave at first. I loved my home. Everything I knew was here. My father. His work.” She fidgeted with her sleeves. “But there was no work for me. No home of my own. Not many friends my age to help me build something for myself.” He watched her face as she navigated a wealth of thoughts inside her head. “When I told my father how I felt about that, how scared and depressing that was, he made me promise to apply to every Ivy League but Tarth after high school. He said he couldn’t bear to see me die a slog to the old academic regime here. Even if I graduated top of the class at Tarth, they don’t hire someone until someone else dies. It’s painfully insulated.”

 

“When’s the last time you were here?” She gave his question a weak smile.

 

“When I moved him out of the house and into the facility.” He watched her consider a few thoughts, mulling things over in the intense and methodical silence he had come to adore. “Want to see the house?”

 

“Fuck yah I do.” He threw some cash down on the table.

 

She was calm and quiet on the drive around the block, soft in the eyes as she pointed the way to her old home. It was a two story craftsman cottage. White and crisp. Massive wrap around porch on the first level with red floor boards. Violently blooming flower boxes. “Has someone been keeping up with it?” He asked, surprised to see it so clean and bright. The lawn was trim and the trees were lush.

 

“Archie Goodwin’s son and his wife come by once a week. They should have put the utilities back on for us.” They stood on the stoop a long while. Jaime waited for Brienne to lead. “My father built this place for my mother when they married. I couldn’t stand the thought of it rotting away when he went into the home, so I hired them to look after the place.”

 

“It’s beautiful.” The inside was just as enchanted. A little dusty. Very still...but pretty as a Rockwell painting. The whole place was outfitted in antique furniture. All the fabrics were as richly colored as the famous forests and ocean shores. There was a brick fireplace and intricate molding everywhere. Framed photos were artfully arranged across all the walls.

 

There was a woman he assumed had to be Brienne’s mother. Tall, rail thin, and blond. Beautiful smile. There was a little boy that had to be her late older brother. The photos showed the woman and Selwyn together throughout the years. Baby Brienne. Elementary school and junior high Brienne. High school Brienne. Every single one of Brienne’s diploma and award ceremonies. Even Brienne’s first published paper. He could barely take it all in. He noticed her climbing the cherry wood stairs. He followed close behind and watched her touch the walls fondly. Textured wall paper. Pale blue star patterns.

 

“I don’t think I’m ready to sell this place yet.”

 

“So don’t.” She looked at him curiously. “No law saying you have to.” He shrugged. “Sell off what you don’t want, trash the junk, only keep what you do.” He pressed up on tip toe to kiss her cheek. “Nothing’s permanent.”

 

Brienne smiled and then wordlessly walked herself down the hall. They passed a golden bedroom and a marble bathroom. She entered a room with navy blue walls and posters galore. Bowie. Sleater-Kinney. Bikini Kill. Punk bands he had never heard of. Shelves crammed and bursting with books. There was a clean white desk laden with sports trophies. Basketball and fencing from the looks of it. Jaime smiled when he realized he was looking at Brienne’s childhood bedroom. There was a record player on the floor and a stack of vinyls next to the bed, which was drowning in fluffy white duvets. Her teenage rebellion was significantly more sophisticated than his own. She chuckled dryly at his elated expression.

 

“Got any of your old basketball uniforms hanging around here?” He teased.

 

“In the attic, probably.”

 

“Hot.” She shuffled past him and across the hall. There was a gorgeous study. Jaime swallowed another joke as she fingered the edge of Selwyn’s desk. Brienne sat on the sette in the corner, hand over her mouth, tears starting to track down her cheeks again. He strode over and knelt between her knees.

 

“Hey.” He pressed his lips to her cheek. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay.”

 

“It’s too quiet. It’s never this quiet.” She sniffed, wiping her cheeks. He stood upright, giving her shoulders a tight squeeze. He was gone but a minute. Music started to play from her bedroom. He adjusted the volume. Far too loud… far too soft…and then just right. She closed her eyes and let the tears continue to fall.

 

“I did not peg you as a member of the _Extreme_ fan base.”

 

“I loved that album.” She admitted.

 

“Pornograffitti?” He teased.

 

“ _More than Words_ is one of the greatest love songs of all time, you philistine.” She coughed, wiped at her cheeks. “Gods, I’m sick a crying.”

 

“Come here.” Jaime pulled on her hands until she was standing, locking his arms around her waist. She slipped her arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his, looking somewhere at the narrow space between them with disdain. A track skipped. _More than Words_ started to play. She closed her eyes, flushing deep red as he moved them back and forth. A lazy prom waltz.

 

“Jaime.” She said his name like an affirmation. Or an I love you. She opened her eyes again, looking at him curiously. She ruffled his hair and smoothed it down again.

 

“This always works in the movies.”

 

“You don’t watch these kinds of movies. Unless they’re just a means of getting naked in a twin-sized bed.”

 

“You said it, not me.” She snorted, kissing him below the left eye and the right. “We don’t have to stay here.” He said, tone suddenly much more serious. “You should have a place to escape from the grief a little bit.” He kissed her firmly. She hummed and leaned in to it.

 

“I think…I want to stay.” She decided, kissing him three times in quick succession. “I never used to, when I visited. It made me sad.” She kissed him one more time before leaning back slightly, looking at the ceiling. Tin tiles. More star designs. “This is my home. I want to spend some more time with it. Remember it better. Brighter and happier.” He kissed her again. And again. Her chin. Her nose. Her cheekbones. The song ended. She pulled him towards the door. “Come see the garden.”

 

Her neighborhood backed up to one of many of Tarth’s nature preserves. There were trees and mountains as far as the eye could see from the back porch. There was a thriving vegetable garden in the little clearing behind the house, along with a fire pit. On the tree line there was a deer stand and a wooden platform high up in the canopy that looked hand hewn.

 

“Protecting the perimeter?” She laughed lightly.

 

“Bird watching.” She explained. “Dad’s favorite pass time.” They took a seat on the porch swing. “And my favorite teenage drinking spot.” Brienne called the funeral home and made arrangements to pick up the ashes two hours from then. She cast her phone to the side and slouched, leaning into him and resting her head against his.

 

“I can see you out here. Chubby little hands playing in the dirt. Making a mess of your clothes. Killing grass snakes.” She wrinkled her nose.

 

“I like grass snakes. They don’t really bite. I kept one in a shoebox for a year.”

 

“Course you did.”

 

“Named it Rolf.” They laughed.

 

“What was your mother’s name?” Jaime asked. She kicked her heel into the deck so the swing rocked.

 

“Brianna Anwen-Evenstar. Needless to say she was asleep when the birth certificate was drawn up and my father lacked creativity. I was supposed to be a Selwyn Junior but failed to meet certain criteria.”

 

“Brienne, daughter of Brianna. I think it’s beautiful.” He grinned. “Men pass on their names all the time.”

 

“My brother was Galladon Archer Evenstar. That was my grandfather’s full name. I never met him but Dad adored him, always told these extraordinary stories. He died in the second Great War, when my father was just a boy.”

 

“Tell me more.”

 

“I was eight when Gally died.” Jaime held her tighter. He stopped himself from kissing her, as she looked like she wanted to say more. “When I close my eyes I can still see his infuriatingly cute dimples.” They grinned. “Dad said the accident broke something inside Mama. She didn’t laugh nearly as much after that. She stopped carrying me around on her back.” Brienne had told him the drowning story before and it pained him for days afterwards. No doubt it nearly split their family in a million different directions.

 

“Then there was a miscarriage and an infant death. Back to back, two years in a row. Arianna and Alysanne.” That was new information. Jaime felt heavy. Brienne smoothed a distracted hand across his chest. He pressed it softly, keeping it in place over his heart. “Arianna was a stillborn and Alysanne only lived for a few hours. I held her in my arms for one of them. They were both so beautiful. A few months later, Mama…they said it was a heart attack that did it. Her blood pressure was through the roof after the last pregnancy. Happens to a lot of women. The stress won out. Dad told me it was a broken heart.”

 

Jaime looked up at the rafters and marveled at all the pain that probably marinated inside the walls of this house. Just Brienne, Selwyn, and the ghosts of four others.

 

“You lived a thousand life times before you were 11 years old. More than anyone should have to.”

 

“It wasn’t an unhappy childhood. Not really.” She decided, fiddling with his shirt. Her sleeve fell down to her elbow. He didn’t have to look hard to see the old self harm scars. “I mean…school was fucking awful. And Rochelle was dreadful. Could have done without her. It could have been worse.”

 

“Was she the nanny?” He frowned. He knew some of those stories. Selwyn had entrusted the wife of a colleague to help him care for Brienne after her mother passed. He had to work, after all. She was a hard woman. Belittling and abusive were the kindest words for her.

 

“Yah. Made me call her Septa Rochelle. Old school. But me and Dad, when it was just the two of us? We were so happy. Really truly happy.” They listened to the birds for awhile. The occasional car rattled by, but it was blessedly quiet.

 

“Thank you for bringing me here.” He said softly.

 

“You’ve got all my secrets now.”

 

“They’re safe with me.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise.”

 

“You can still run now, while you got the chance.” She joked.

 

“Nah, I’m just getting comfortable.” She laughed, wiping her cheeks again. 


	4. This Love Gathers Everything But Dust

_content warning: very brief reference to assault and a sex scene_

Getting Selwyn’s remains was entirely anticlimactic. They signed a bunch of paperwork, settled a bill, and then an old woman was putting a polished wooden urn into her arms. She held it between her thighs in the car. It was heavier than either of them expected. They stopped at the neighborhood grocery, hardware, and liquor stores before going back to the house and they left the urn in the backseat. Brienne put on a strong face.

 

“It’s hard to believe that’s him.” She concluded.

 

“I thought so too, the first time.” He reassured her. “It’s harder when you’ve seen the body before it goes in.”

 

“You think?” She watched his face. His father had been buried but his mother has been cremated and scatter off the coast of Essos, her birth place. He gave her a weak smile.  

 

“Yah. I think it's better like this. Bodies without souls are...strange.”

 

Tucked back in the house, Jaime opened up all the windows on the first floor. He kept the bug screens down and tied the drapes back. Fresh air rushed through the house. Brienne carefully set the ashes on the mantel and set to cleaning up what she could. Dusting, sweeping, fluffing and febreezing some life back into everything. Jaime started cooking dinner. The appliances creaked to life after months of disuse. The fridge was cold enough to chill their cheap box of wine. Brienne poured some whiskey and took up grading while the pasta and meatballs cooked. She took a break after awhile to spread garlic pesto on french bread. Jaime played music on his phone while plating their food.

 

She didn’t talk much, but she smiled easily and pressed her knee to his under the table. When the sun set they were washing dishes. Well, Brienne was washing dishes with Jaime hanging on to her, rocking them back and forth to the beat of an Amy Winehouse song. He pressed hard kisses to the backs of her neck and shoulders, blowing raspberries on her ticklish spots. Suddenly her heart felt very full.

 

“Coffee?” He asked.

 

“Mmm. No.” She spoke, clearing her throat. “I'm already feeling jittery.”

 

“Bath?”

 

“Come with me.”

 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

 

~

 

He dragged everything they needed out of their suitcase while she ran the water. The first floor bathroom had an old-fashioned clawfoot tub. She found some candles and matches so she left the lights off. Jaime brought his music with him. They sat on opposite ends of the basin. He pulled her legs into his lap to massage her ankles and calves, the bends of her knees, and her thighs.

 

“What are you thinking, my love?” He murmured, just over the tune of the soft music.

 

“Blessedly…nothing.” She inhaled deeply, dragging hot water over her chest and throat with a wash cloth. She watched the candle light play off the wooden beams on the ceiling. He pinched a ticklish spot on her foot and she jumped. “Now I'm thinking...I knew you were trouble the moment I saw you.”

 

“What kind of trouble?”

 

“All of it.” He laughed, following her gaze up and then down again. He watched her chest rise and fall ever so calmly. Something within his own chest ached.

 

“ _And I pray thee now…tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?_ ” He quoted. She groaned.

 

“Not that again.”

 

“What? You’re the Beatrice to my Benedict, baby.” She let out a laugh.

 

“When did you even read plays? I thought you studied classical mythology in undergrad.”

 

“English minor. Shakespeare inspired my love of the invective in the first place.” He hummed. “It’s the same throughout history. Whether it’s hateful or teasing or hiding something affectionate- it’s always there. Like the love language between generations.” She looked at him softly, impressed. Moving slowly, careful not to spill water over the edges of the tub, she got to her knees and then moved forward, straddling his legs and sitting on his thighs.

 

“ _For them all together_.” She quoted the next line in the Much Ado About Nothing scene back at him, much to his delight. “ _Which maintain so politic a state of evil that they will not admit any good part_ \- mmph… _to intermingle…with them_.” It was rather hard to finish that with how hard he was kissing her. She framed his face and held him still. “ _But for which of my good parts did you first suffer love for me?_ ”

 

“ _Suffer love! A good epithet! I do suffer love indeed, for I love thee against my will_.” They giggled. Brienne kissed him softly. “Your heart.” He said, dropping the pentameter for his own words. “That heart which you wear on your sleeve and so freely give to others. That little furrow in your brow that shows up when you think. The way you talk to students. The way you talked to me, even when I was horrible.” She sank her fingers into his hair, scanning his face and eyes. “I don’t know when it happened, exactly. But suddenly you were all I could think about.”

 

“Infatuation. Even the most horrendous frat boys can muster that.”

 

“Perhaps. But I wondered if you were eating enough. Drinking enough water. Sleeping enough. Laughing. I wondered what I could do to make you smile. Thought about how I could get you to stay in my office just a few minutes longer, sparring with me over a text translation or a university policy.”

 

“Is that why you called me so many terrible names?” She ducked her head to kiss his throat. He groaned and shifted below her, gripping her hips.

 

“I was horrible.” He conceded. “I was in pain. I had no idea what to do with you or what I felt. That’s no excuse, but I truly had no idea how to act. You took me by surprise. But suddenly _me versus you_ was _us against the world_. How did that happen?”

 

“When you got Professor Bolton fired. And risked your own position in the process.”

 

“The thought of having a closed door academic hearing for sexual assault…still makes my blood boil.” He huffed, tilting her chin up briefly for a kiss. She continued nipping at the side of his neck after being released. “What’s a good department meeting without some righteous punches, I always say.” She smiled against his skin.

 

“That night I saw a man who knew right from wrong. Who stood strong in his convictions. Who cared deeply about others. Who believed me and those three young women without question. You risked everything for us that night. I still owe you for it.” His hand slipped between her thighs and she felt warm head to toe, pushing herself gently against his palm a few times. He began to work her, slow and gentle. She sucked on his bottom lip and opened her mouth to his. “I love you so much it’s hard to go to sleep at night.” She said. It made him shiver. She dropped her hands into the water, moving his fingers against herself just so with one and stroking him with the other.

 

“Brienne.”

 

“Jaime.”

 

“Fuck.” They worked at each other. Teased. They kissed like they were hungry again. He abruptly joined them together and her head fell back. He surged up to suck on her throat and rub his hands all over her body. “I’m yours. I’m yours.” He groaned as she began to move and thrust. “You’re all I want. You’re all I need.”

 

He worked her hard and fast again as he felt himself losing control. She came hard, shuddering with her whole body as he followed suit.

 

“Damn.” She whispered, wishing it could last forever.

 

“Sorry. I’ll make that up to you.”

 

“Whaddyah mean?” She slurred, kissing him deeply and repeatedly, making them both dizzier. He moaned and gave as good as he got, tilting her up and back against the other end of the tub.

 

“Too short.” He said. She yelped as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, pushing up on the small of her back to press her body against his. They both began to lose traction, sliding back and down into the water.

 

“Bed?” She asked with a laugh.

 

“Which one?”

 

“Mmmm this floor, across the hall. Guest bed.” In no time flat she was pinned to the the floor just inside that room, legs dangling out in the hall, left ankle caught in a towel. Jaime was holding her thighs apart and setting to work. He lapped and sucked so hard and deep it was an act of worship. She gripped at the door frame in an attempt to ground herself before he added a few fingers into the mix. She came again, crying out as it broke over her like a wave twice her size.

 

“Of fuck, Jaime…Gods.” She groaned and then laughed as he kept working her to the point of hypersensitivity. Her blood sang. She tweaked his ear and he pushed his attention up, kissing across her thighs and belly. Up between her breasts. Against her neck. Finally reaching her mouth.

 

“Ever done that under this roof?”

 

“Uh…no. No I haven’t.” Suddenly that was the funniest thing in the world. They laughed so hard they couldn’t even kiss properly. It took a few tries but they eventually got off the floor, cleaned up the mess, and locked up the house. They brushed their teeth and poked and tickled and annoyed each other. They slid into bed together, him in briefs and her in boxers and a tee shirt. He made room for himself between her thighs. They kissed languidly, hardly stopping for breath. Her mind went blank again, soaking up his warmth and weight and adoration.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Hey.” He kissed her nose. She passed a hand across across her mouth and chin and tried to catch her breath.

 

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” He tucked hair behind her ears and kissed her again, licking deep into her mouth like he was in no rush to get an answer.

 

“Department grading deadline is tomorrow. I’ll need to go to the university. Back to the lawyer with those signed forms…and I’ll need to make some more decisions about property and ceremonies and other shit.”

 

“Want to go for a run on the beach tomorrow morning before all of that?” He suggested. She smiled and nodded, tugging him closer by the chin for another kiss. 


	5. I'll Show You Mine If You...

_content warning: discussion of nightmares, descriptions of self harm, descriptions of trauma BUT with mutual comfort and affection + catharsis_

She woke up struggling for breath. Sweating. Coughing. Overheated.

 

He sat up when she frantically ripped the covers back, practically falling out of bed and tripping across the hall. She emptied the contents of her stomach in the toilet before he could so much as turn a light on.

 

“Bri, Bri, Bri.” He chanted, scrambling after her. A sob tore out of her throat. He frantically fetched a glass of water, a wet washcloth, and a towel. “Easy, easy, baby…it’s okay, it’s okay…it was just a dream.”

 

“Was it?” She choked, dry heaving two or three more times before her body began to calm down. He combed her hair back with his fingers while she cleaned up. “Oh fuck.” She swallowed another sob.

 

“I’m here. I’m right here. Feel this. Focus.” He guided one of her hands to his neck, and his forehead to her own, pressing two of her fingers to his own pulse point. Her panic started to fade as she began to breathe again. The room stopped spinning. Suddenly she was very cold. “Good. You’re doing so good.” He helped her stand. She brushed her teeth and rubbed herself down with a warmer washcloth. She pitched the shirt to the floor. She had sweat damn near through it. He handed her the glass of water and she chugged it, returning to her body again.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“No, no. Come here, come back to bed.” He wrapped both arms around her waist and led her back to the bedroom. Miraculously, the sheets were dry. He tucked her in to the side he had been sleeping on, which was a bit warmer. She laid there quietly, staring at the ceiling. “Oh you just scared the hell out of me.” He managed to say, tone light.

 

“Me too.” Her limbs felt like lead. He laid close beside her but didn’t touch her. “What time is it?” She asked.

 

“Three in the morning.”

 

“Hmmm.” She blinked back more tears, suddenly awash with intense frustration over her body’s betrayal.

 

“A nightmare?” He asked. She nodded.

 

“I used to get them like that. In grad school, before I went to therapy…” She visibly relaxed at the disclosure. He slowly extended his hand, laying it on her neck so he could cradle her jaw. He swept his thumb across her cheek.

 

“I was sitting in my room upstairs, watching myself pull the blade out of a pencil sharpener.” He sucked in a breath.

 

“Oh Brienne.”

 

“Septa Rochelle walked in. Suddenly I was back in my body. I cut myself. I didn’t want to. I really didn’t. But I couldn’t stop. She hit me, just like she did then. I felt it.” Brienne closed her eyes. Jaime swallowed. “My father sent her away when he found out.” She assured him. “But in the dream she just kept laying in, screaming about how much Dad would hate me if he found out.”

 

“You’re here with me now.” He reminded her. “You woke up.”

 

“Not yet. I ran outside. You were there. You looked so sad. I was still bleeding. I went over and held your face in my hands…asked you to stay with me. But you said something I can’t remember and then turned around and walked into the woods…” She coughed, feeling devastated just thinking about it. “And then I woke up.”

 

He frowned deeply. When she opened her eyes to look at him she almost laughed at how angry he looked.

 

“What?” He asked.

 

“Are you going to beat up the dream version of yourself, or something?”

 

“If I ever cross paths with him, fuck yah. Bastard. Idiot.” She did laugh then, feeling some of the ache in her chest go away.

 

“It was just a dream.” She repeated back to him. “At first I thought every time we were together was the last time. It was all I could think about when you were close. But you stayed. You always stay.” He sat up and bent over her. He kissed the thin scars that crisscrossed her forearms. He pushed the blankets down so he could do to the same to the thicker few that were scattered across her thighs and stomach, as well as the long one beneath her right breast. He had done this once before, the first time he told her he loved her. It still made her want to cry.

 

“My nightmares used to be about my sister.” He said, coming up for breath. He pulled the duvet back up, tucking it around them. He used his short arm to perch above her. He kissed her ever so softly. “Now they’re just about losing you.” He admitted. “Or walking in to your office to see Bolton on top of you again. But this time I’m too late and you can’t get loose.” She stroked his cheek.

 

“You weren’t too late.”

 

“I wasn’t.”

 

“I broke Bolton's nose.” She reminded him. “And you dislocated both of his shoulders.” She pressed a long kiss to his cheek. He pressed his nose into her hair, below her ear, and breathed deeply.

 

“Dream team, we are.”

 

“Your sister is locked away. She can’t touch you or Tyrion or anyone else ever again.”

 

“Not in this lifetime.” He kissed her neck and the top of her ear. He pulled his head up and locked eyes with her. Even in the dark they were gorgeous. “I swear on this lifetime and the next…you will never have to ask me to stay.”

 

~

 

Neither of them were very good at sleeping past sunrise on weekdays. They started the day racing each other on the nearest shore. A flood of memories from high school started flashing through her mind. She did this nearly ever day by herself for four years. Doing it with him was far more fun. Short term sprints. Deep lunges. A long jog. Some sit ups and push ups to close it out. He threw his head back and laughed when she turned a cartwheel in the shallows, throwing water all over him.

 

When their legs started to cramp and their lungs were officially winded she sat on the hood of the jeep while he kicked off his shoes and socks and waded into the water, phone out. No doubt taking a few pictures for Instagram or Tyrion or something. She took a long drink of water and watched the wind toss his hair around. The gulfs and oceans surrounding Tarth were clear and cold. Saltier this time of year for some reason. The wind smelled clean. The sun was warm but gentled by the clouds. Had it always been this gorgeous? Had anything changed? She certainly had. And the company she kept.

 

She instinctively looked away when he turned the phone towards her.

 

“Oh c’mon.” He called.

 

“I look horrible.”

 

“Put your chin on your knee and tilt your head to the side.”

 

“Study a lot of school portraiture, did you?”

 

“Jokes on you, you’re beautiful.” He slipped out of the water and walked towards her, grinning like an idiot. Her idiot, though. She couldn’t help but laugh again as he pulled her knees apart and nearly yanked her off the hood of the car to stand between her thighs and rub his sweaty cheek on hers.

 

“Oh you are so gross you-” He sucked a kiss onto her neck and then laughed.

 

“You need a shower, Evenstar.”

 

“Lot of work to do.” She acknowledged, a little morose at the prospect of leaving the beach. He stood up straight and ran his hand up and down the top of her leg, draping his short arm over her shoulder.

“Say the word.” She leaned in and kissed him, hard and quick.

 

“I know the university is going to offer me a memorial ceremony today. I can’t stand spectacles, but…” She trailed off, mouth twisting. “I don’t know.”

 

“Nobody has to be with you when you spread the ashes. You don’t have to spread the ashes at all. A little wine, a nice speaker. Cello music. That’s all a community needs to heal, really. Of course it’s annoying and performative and claustrophobic…but I’ll be right there. So will some others.”

 

“You’re insightful today.”

 

“Insightful is my middle name. C’mon. Let’s get going.”

 

_

 

Grades were submitted at the nick of time. He went with her to the lawyer to talk estate division and then went back to the house to make some calls while she went to the university.

 

He was dozing on the couch when she got back. He smiled sleepily and crossed his arms behind his head as she sat on the arm of the couch by his feet.

 

“Sunday. They’re going to take care of everything. Just want me to be there to accept condolences and receive some sort of ceremonial banner or some shit.”

 

“How are you feeling?” He asked. 

 

“Okay. I think.” She rubbed her hands together. “I don’t know what to do.” He shrugged.

 

“What is there left to do, really? His accounts are closed. Insurance providers have been informed. Everything’s been notarized and crossed and dotted. You’re keeping the house.”

 

“Hmmm. I think the house should be deep cleaned. And the attic and basement cleared. Storage shed as well.”

 

“A job for tomorrow.” She looked at her watch.

 

“It’s only two.”

 

“We’ll probably need to call over one of those carry away services for a job that big. I thought you might show me the famous nature trails. Or the nearest redbox and takeaway. Something quiet. Relaxing.” She softened, remembering what he said about taking things slow.

 

“That sounds nice, actually.” She sucked in a breath. “I don’t know if I’m ready to spread the ashes yet either.”

 

“You don’t have to be.”

 

“He’d want to stay here. I just don’t know where.”

 

“Don’t rush it. It’ll come.” She swung her legs around, planting her feet on either side of his hips. She bent over, elbows on knees, and looked at him intently.

 

“You’re infuriating when you’re like this.” She decided. 

 

“Like what?”

 

“Perfect.”

 

“Hmmm. Hardly. Always been slightly to the left of that.” He grinned. 

 

“Only slightly?” She asked. 

 

“Perceptibly. Come here.” He held his hand out to her. She raised an eyebrow.

 

“Why?”

 

“Wanna hold you.” She took his hand and let herself be pulled. He used the motion to pull himself up. She landed on his upper thighs, legs scrunched up on either side of him. He buried his face in her neck and gathered her up in his arms, tight around her back as he rocked them side to side and kissed up and down her throat. “Sweet girl.” She felt ungainly and held on to the back of the couch with one arm, his neck with the other.

 

“We’re gonna fall.” She laughed breathlessly as he hit a ticklish spot. He hooked an arm around her thigh to keep her close but otherwise ignored her. He nosed the collar of her shirt aside as they slipped off the couch entirely. She shrieked with laughter as he landed on the floor and she landed on top of him, he nearly cracked both their heads on the coffee table throwing his weight forward to pin her to the floor. “What is it about getting me on the floor, Lannister?”

 

“I get tired of straining my neck.”

 

“Too short.” She sank her fingers into his hair and brought him down into a gentle kiss. He watched her scan his face, looking pensive as she pressed her thumbs into his cheeks. “I love you, Jaime.” He smiled and pressed a long kiss to her forehead.

 

“You make my heart beat, Brienne.”


	6. It Wasn't All Bad

She ended up calling Rosie about an hour later, who immediately invited them over to the Goodwin Farm for the evening.

 

“Don’t bring anything. Not even a bottle of wine. Gail will kill me. But also…I’m surprising everyone. With you. So don’t text anyone. Especially Gail. Big surprise.” She said in a rush before hanging up. It was another gorgeous day, so they hopped in the jeep and headed up the coast, past the capital and deeper into the thickly wooded heart of Tarth.

 

“Tell me about the famous Archibald Goodwin.” Jaime said, leaning back in the passenger seat, his hand tucked into the bend of her knee. He had heard the name a dozen times, even seen it written with Selwyn’s on various academic projects.

 

“Archie was my father’s right hand and childhood best friend.” She smiled fondly. “They worked together at the university for 15 years. When Archie retired he taught high school math and coached basketball. So he’s known me since the beginning I guess.” Jaime smiled. “He had three children. Rosie, Gail, and Archie Junior. AJ, Archie Junior, is the one that watches the house for me. He’s 4 or 5 years older than me. Gail was…one of my only real friends growing up. We were in the same classes pre-school to senior year of high school. She lost her parents when she was young and was adopted by the Goodwins. We’ve always had a lot in common. Rosie, the woman you met on the plane, was born when we were in high school. She was so small when I left.”

 

“You’ve kept in touch with Gail?”

 

“Oh yah. Ever since we graduated. Letters and FaceTime at least once a month. Things have fallen off recently. We’ve both been busy but I miss her like crazy.” Jaime smiled, squeezing her leg.

 

“What’s she like?”

 

“Wonderful.” Was all she could muster at first. “You’ll like her. She’s loud. And could drink you under the table. She went to Iron Island University for undergrad.”

 

“Always loved Pyke. Gorgeous city.” He said.

 

“She grabbed a PhD in clinical psychology from Dorne. Just graduated last summer. I went to the ceremony.” Brienne breathed deeply and then grinned. “I’m excited to see her. Closest thing I have to a sister, really.”

 

The farm was a gorgeous collection of cabins, barns, and horse paddocks nestled between the foothills of Tarth’s mountain range and the edge of a nature preserve. Brienne parked in the dirt to the left of four other vehicles. A group of people spilled out onto the deck of the biggest cabin. Rosie was helping an older man walk, practically levitating off the ground herself.

 

“Surprise!” Rosie called to her family. A young man and a young women were corralling four young children, trying to keep them from flying off the porch, but once the man caught sight of them he laughed and waved. A second women was sitting on the railing, looking very pleased. A third came jogging up to meet them, throwing her arms around Brienne, looking utterly shell shocked.

 

“Fucking hell Bri Evenstar.” Brienne beamed and embraced Gail, who barely came up to her chest. The woman had pale skin with dark hair and eyes. She was wearing overalls which were visibly two sizes too big on her stocky frame. Jamie could very vividly picture the two tom boys in high school together, thick as thieves and conjoined at the hip. The women kissed each other on the cheeks before parting. Gail wiped away a few tears and sucked in a breath. “You look incredible. I’m so glad you’re here.”

 

“It’s so good to see you. Gods. I never realize how much I miss you till you’re in front of me.” The women embraced again, laughing and shrieking as Gail lifted Brienne clean off her feet and nearly dropped them both into the dirt.

 

“Is this who I think it is?” Gail asked. Brienne ran a hand through her hair and caught her breath, cheeks a little pink now.

 

“This is Jaime.”

 

“Fantastic. So good to finally meet you, Lannister.” Gail gave him a hard handshake and used it to pull him into a one armed hug, slapping him firmly on the back. “C’mon in. Tell me everything.”

 

AJ’s wife was named Evelyn. Their children, all under age 10, were Wallace, Elliot, Charles, and Hester. Gail’s partner was a bubbly redheaded woman named Ann. Archie Senior was an old man with a quick laugh and booming voice. The house was loud but exceptionally comfortable and gleeful.

 

Jaime found himself with a two year old on his lap and an ale in his hand at the massive dining room table, sitting next to Archie Senior and listening to Brienne and Gail speak a mile a minute. Sometimes they could communicate entirely though gestures and knowing looks, which always resulted in shrieks of laughter. Little Hester tugged at Jaime’s scruff and giggled.

 

“They’ve always had a short hand, these two.” Archie Senior said, nodding towards the girls.

 

“I’ve never been able to keep up with them.” Ann sighed, taking a seat on the arm of Archie’s chair and draping an arm around him.

 

“You and Evie have no room to talk, baby. Talking about all of us behind our backs in Gaelic all the time.” Gail teased. Ann leaned over to kiss her, both of them grinning.

 

"Cúl Tóna." Ann said it like it was a term of endearment but Evie shouted with laughter from the kitchen. Jaime googled it on his phone. It meant  _dick head_. “Anyway, did Gail tell you she’s interviewing at your university’s medical school in a month, Bri?” Ann said. Brienne nearly spat out her drink.

 

“What?”

 

“I was getting there.” Gail held up her hands defensively. Brienne lightly punched her in the arm. “You sent me the job listing you idiot, don't act so surprised.”

 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it! You hate institutional work!”

 

“Don’t get too excited, it’s just a first round interview. But it’s a practitioner and research position. Hard money. I could be working in the community as a practitioner and teach within the university. Plenty of opportunities for anarchy.” Brienne snorted. AJ began to serve dinner, bringing in plate after plate of BBQ. Rosie and Evelyn followed with the potato salad, bread rolls, and green beans.

 

“Rosie this was a terrible surprise. We’ll never be able to let them go.” Ann teased. Brienne blushed. Gail laughed and threw an arm around Brienne’s neck.

 

“Bri, I’m heartbroken this is what brought you to Tarth.” Archie said, once everyone was seated again. Everyone nodded agreement. “Selwyn was like a sort of soulmate. I never thought I’d know life without him. My best friend, my brother, my family.” Brienne’s eyes got wide and glassy. Jaime crossed ankle behind hers under the table. She gave him a watery smile. “But the older you get, I see so much of him in you. No one is ever really gone, are they?” He raised his glass. “To Brienne, the jewel or Tarth. To her lovely guest, Jaime Lannister. And to dear Selwyn, always in our hearts.”

 

“Thank you Uncle Archie.” Brienne got up to embrace the old man. Everyone was a little misty. Hester shrieked, still sitting comfortably in Jaime’s lap, and reached out for a whole handful of potatoes. The table fell to pieces laughing at her mother’s horrified expression, which only worsened as Hester's brothers followed suit.

 

“Bear cubs.” Jaime joked, tweaking the little girl’s ear.

 

“They’re beautiful, AJ. Evie. Really.“ Brienne said, watching Jaime with considerable amusement. He was accepting the bread roll the little girl was handing to him, squished by her little fist. She was so cute it hurt.

 

“Thanks mate.” AJ beamed, putting an arm around his wife. “Evie’s a miracle worker.”

 

“Revel in my creations. AJ’s getting snipped this summer.” Evelyn said, far too casually, before taking a long drink of wine. Ann snorted water directly out of her nose. Archie’s laughter drowned them all out.

 

~

 

Jaime kicked around a soccer ball with the boys, Evie, and Ann. Hester sat astride her mother’s shoulders and cheered. There was also a sort of low-contact sword game going on in addition to the footwork, as they were all armed with field hockey sticks.

 

Brienne watched from the back porch with the Goodwins. Rosie and AJ were perched on the steps, passing a cigarette back and forth. Brienne shared the bench glider with Gail. Archie Senior was settled in his wheelchair for the evening close to Brienne’s other side.

 

“When was the last time we were all in the same room?” Gail wondered, stretching her legs across Brienne’s lap and linking their arms together as she cuddled into her side.

 

“Hmmm. High school graduation, probably.” Brienne answered. “We had dinner that night at the pub.” AJ whistled. Archie Senior frowned.

 

“Too long.”

 

“Yes.” Brienne agreed, squeezing Gail’s arm. “I’m keeping the house though. For awhile at least.”

 

“I’m glad.” Rosie said, dripping with laughter at her nephews. “Gorgeous property.” Out on the lawn Ann had gotten the drop on Wallace and was hauling him around her arm like a duffle bag while dueling Jamie, who now had Hester perched on his shoulder like a parrot. They traded pirate like insults to get the children to laugh.

 

“There’s something about being here now…” Brienne continued. “I’ve missed it here. Didn’t think I ever would.”

 

“I know what you mean.” Gail agreed. “I still remember all the terrible shit we went through…but it’s still so beautiful here. Ann and I have been thinking about buying one of those fishing chalets on the east coast so we can start coming more often.”

 

“I’m here as often as I can.” Rosie chimed in “I spent decades disowning this hell hole. But suddenly it’s home.”

 

“Evie and I gave the North a go. Tarth spawn like us ain’t cut for much else but Tarth.” AJ said. His father laughed.

 

“Maybe we’re getting older.” Gail wondered.

 

“Hardly.” Archie Senior laughed again. “Infants you lot are.”

 

“C’mon Pops. We’re settling down.” Gail said. “You’ve got grandchildren. Almost two daughter in laws. I reckon it won’t be long till Rosie brings home someone half as pretty as Bri’s boy.”

 

“I should be so fucking lucky.” Rosie raised her wine glass. Brienne elbowed Gail hard enough for the sound to carry. Rosie and AJ laughed, whistling and teasing.

 

“What? I actually like him!” Gail giggled. “He’s kind. Intelligent to boot. Funny. Talented. Financially secure. Looks at you like you hung the fucking stars. He's almost worthy of you. Are you not planning on keeping him?” Brienne rolled her eyes. Archie reached for her hand. She gave it to him. Gail tugged till Brienne was resting her head against hers. They all lapsed into a comfortable silence.

 

“Do you remember when we used to lay out there in the grass?” Brienne asked Gail quietly. “Drag out all those pillows and blankets from the guest house to that oak tree out there.”

 

“Hell yah.” Gail whispered back, reverent. 

 

“All those years trying to see the future…” Brienne continued.

 

“Never saw it coming, did we?” Gail turned her cheek to kiss Brienne’s.

 

“Your father gave me the rings after your mother’s funeral.” Archie said softly.

 

“What rings?” Brienne asked.

 

“Wedding rings. His and Brianna’s.”

 

“Really? I don’t remember them wearing any rings.”

 

“He stopped wearing them after she died. Made him sick with grief just looking at them. They’re in my safety deposit box. They’re yours.”

 

“Thank you.” Brienne said, mildly breathless. Gail beamed, watching her old friend get teary.

 

“Hey- didn’t we get married that one time?” Gail joked, tapping Brienne’s nose.

 

“In Kindergarten. Hardly counts.” Rosie and AJ gave disbelieving laughs.

 

“Shut up you.” Gail fired back.

 

“We wore those braided pipe cleaner rings like every day until we started the 8th grade.” Brienne laughed. “Don’t you remember?”

 

“No wonder everyone thought we were lesbians.”

 

“Gaily you are a lesbian.” Rosie fell apart giggling.

 

“Not the point. Anyway if Pops thinks you’ll need rings…its fate, Bri.” Gail gave a pointed stare towards Jaime Lannister.

 

“Quiet you.” There was no bite left in Brienne’s voice. They all watched Jaime get absolutely decked by Evie’s sword and tackled to the ground by AJ’s older two boys. Wallace apparently scored a goal with the soccer ball. The crowd went wild. “There’s going to be a ceremony at the University on Sunday.” Brienne said, once they all finished laughing again.

 

“We’ll be there.” The Goodwins said, practically in unison. Brienne’s cheeks started to hurt from smiling so much.

 


	7. No Other Skin For These Souls

Gail walked them out to their car after dessert, an arm around both of them. She insisted on coming over to help with the house the following day. 

 

“I’ll give you a break from clearing out the house tomorrow, or something. And I have a truck. Won't be a bother or anything.”

 

“Of course.” Jaime agreed. “I haven’t heard nearly enough about the teenage years.” Brienne rolled her eyes.

 

“Oh I’ll bring the yearbooks over then.”

 

“Don’t you dare.” Brienne groaned. Gail paused, looking pensive suddenly. She looked back at the house and then back at them both.

 

“Uncle Selwyn was the kind of man you expected to live forever.” She said, digging her heals in the dirt. Brienne took her friend’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Bri. I wish I had been here with you.”

 

“No. He would have hated the thought of us dropping everything to sit and…wait.” Brienne shrugged.

 

“True. I know it’s making Pops think some hard thoughts.”

 

“He’s healthy as a horse.” Brienne teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. Gail wrinkled her nose and smiled.

 

“Mortality is a hell of a drug. Made me think some hard thoughts too. I’ve been working too much. Traveling too little. Seeing family less and less often.”

 

“Arn’t we all?” The women embraced again, blinking back tears. Jaime smiled warmly as Brienne sucked in a deep breath and then wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning on him for support. He wrapped his short arm around her and shook Gail’s hand again. Gail leaned up on her toes to kiss Jaime on the cheek, eyes bright with mirth again.

 

“I like the cut of your jib, my man.”

 

“High praise. Thank you.”

 

“Long story short, I adore you both. I’ll be saying it more often whether you like it or not. I’m thrilled you’re keeping the house. Let’s do a monthly fishing trip or some shit so I don’t become madly depressed.”

 

~

 

Jaime drove them back home again. Brienne was a wee bit inebriated and didn’t trust herself not to swerve. It was dark and they rode with all the windows down and the radio playing. Jaime stopped for gas and junk food half way there. Brienne groaned when she saw the bag of powder donuts but took several anyway.

 

“Nice.” Jaime said, checking his phone before pulling back on the road. “Tyrion just bought tickets to Tarth. He’s coming to the ceremony.” Brienne froze, genuinely surprised.

 

“Really?”

 

“I mean, Sansa was already coming so-“

 

“What did you do?” His blood pressure kicked up a few notches watching her look so astonished.

 

“Arya, Sansa, and Tyrion are coming for sure. I also sent the details to the department email list. Thought you could use some backup with all those old coots, you know? These things should be spent with people you actually care about.” She took a long drink of water, shaking her head in disbelief. He bounced his leg nervously until she leaned over the console to rest her head on his shoulder.

 

~

 

She pulled him to bed as quickly as she could. Touching him. Feeling him. Everywhere. Immediately. In that warm and beautiful aftermath they laid under the duvet pressed together chest to chest, nose to nose. His thigh between hers. His arm under her neck. She pressed her fingertips into his chest.

 

“What do you see when you look at me?” She asked, ever so softly.

 

“Right now? Blue. And some freckles.” She huffed out a light laugh. He brought his hand up to touch her cheek. “I see you, Dr. Brienne Evenstar. I see the most powerful woman I’ve ever known.” He grinned, dragging his fingers down her neck and arm. He tickled her wrist before pressing their palms together. She watched him watch their fingers fall between each other. “I see my tether. But mostly, honestly, and most importantly…” He met her eyes again “…home.” She looked relieved. He tilted forward the inch or two required to kiss her. She returned it intensely, stroking the side of his neck. “So besides the gray hairs- what do _you_ see?” He swore her eyes sparkled. Like a goddamn fairytale.

 

“My heart outside my body.” She admitted after a beat. His eyes started to sting. “A safe place. A partner.” She tweaked at his beard. “I don’t know how to begin to thank you for all of this. For being here. And loving me. For seeing me. You’ve always had such an intense gaze and I’ve never known what to do with it.” Her finger tips ghosted across his lips.

 

“I love you, Brienne.” He said firmly. “Never forget that. The man I am today would not exist without you. I’ll spend the rest of my life repaying that debt.”

 

“What’s with Lannisters and debt?” She joked, a single tear rolling down her cheek. He thumbed it away. She had cried more in the last week than she had in years but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

 

“You know…” Jaime giggled. “I’m not sure.”

 

“Was Tywin a gambler?” Jaime laughed harder at her question.

 

“Tywin was an idiot.” Jaime gained control of himself again and cleared his throat. “You know before all this happened I was going to ask you something important.”

 

“What’s that?” There was a flash of anxiety that vanished after he brushed his nose against hers.

 

“I want you to move in with me, Bri.”

 

“That’s not a question.” He grinned.

 

“Will you live with me?”

 

“I put up with you.” She kissed him once more.

 

“Can we move in together, Brienne?” Suddenly she never felt so read for anything in her goddamn life.

 

“Yes please.” It made her gut clench to see him so happy. Glassy eyed. Something inside her surged and bloomed. She couldn’t quite trust her voice to form any more words. She craned up to press her lips to his pulse point on the side of her neck. She kissed a line down his shoulder and half way down his bicep. She returned to his cheek and lips. He moaned softly, gripping her tight. 

 

"Oh my love." He said. "What am I going to do with you?" 


	8. They Don't Pay Us Enough

Gail and Ann ended up being a great help in getting the house cleaned out. Gail owned a truck and they borrowed one of Archie’s pony trailers so they could make trips to the dump and the pawn shop. They showed up shortly after breakfast with duffle bags, looking more than ready to spend their day helping.

 

Brienne decided to keep all the furniture, books, and appliances in place. There were loads of odds and ends crammed into two closets, the attic, the basement, and the storage shed behind the house. They worked their way outside in, separating out tool boxes from spare furniture and unfinished restoration projects. They took a break in the attic, sipping on the water and iced coffee Ann had gone out to get.

 

“Dad was quite the collector.” Brienne explained sheepishly, spinning the axel of an ancient looking thread loom.

 

“He used to take all us kids to swap-meets and flea markets on the mainland. He was always always on the hunt for the right table or chest of drawers.” Gail remembered. “Remember when he got like five bed frames in one go and we all got new headboards?”

 

“Mama was so furious because she had just ordered Gally a new one.” Brienne giggled before sneezing out some dust.

 

“Uh oh.” Ann fidgeted with the flap of a cardboard box and beamed at what she found. “Bri, were these yours?” She started pulling out neatly folded concert tee shirts. Judas Priest. Black Sabbath. Iron Maiden. Slipknot. Gail shrieked.

 

“They absolutely were. That was her high school uniform.”

 

“You went to all those concerts with me.” Brienne defended herself, trying to appear nonchalant as Jaime delightedly unfolded one and held it up against his own chest.

 

“We are SO keeping these.”

 

“You keep saying that.” Brienne rolled her eyes. “Where do you plan on putting this museum to my adolescence?”

 

“Somewhere nice. Downtown location. Close to the university.” Ann and Gail fell apart laughing. They found Brienne’s old basketball uniforms and Jaime’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when Brienne pulled the jersey on over her tank top to see if it still fit.

 

After a few more hours work and two more trips to various drop off locations they admired the fruits of their labor. The attic was spotless aside from a few plastic storage bins of tools and a pile of scrap wood. The storage shed now only held the necessities for yard work and exterior maintenance. The closets were back to just holding linens and photo albums. The basement held the boxes of personal items, desk, coffee table, and side tables Brienne wanted to ship to herself. There was a bin for Archie Senior as well.

 

The four of them laid on the tile floor of Selwyn’s study, exhausted and desperate to stop sweating. The cold floor helped immensely. They took turns in the second floor shower. Ann went first.

 

“Thank you for this.” Brienne said to Gail, sitting up and stretching before pinching the other woman’s hip affectionately.

 

“Of course, my love”

 

“This wasn’t nearly as sad as I thought it would be.”

 

“Me neither. Felt like we were kids again.” Gail inhaled deeply. “I’ve always loved this house.”

 

“I’ll get you a key made. You and Ann can come whenever you like.” Jaime massaged the lower notches of Brienne’s spine as she looked up at the ceiling and then at Selwyn’s old desk. Ann returned with wet hair and clean clothes, Gail went into the shower, and Brienne sat at the desk chair. She started checking the drawers. They were all empty, thanks likely owed to her father’s lawyer and his meticulous estate management. But there was an envelope under the blotter that caught her by surprise. It had her name on it. The rustling of papers caught everyone’s attention. Jaime and Ann peaked over her shoulders.

 

“Oh Bri…” Ann gasped. Jaime caressed the back of her neck and looked away. It was a dated letter.

 

“Three months after he was diagnosed.” Brienne noted. She read it in full before passing it to Jaime. He gave it to Ann. When she was done she offered it to Gail the moment she returned to the room.

 

_My Darling Girl,_

_It’s all so unfair. I wish it were any way but this one. I know I have quite some time left, but it’s starting to get hazy around the edges. And confusing. They warned me it would be like this. I’m frightened that I won’t remember to say all the things I need to say before the time comes._

_I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I didn’t act like it all the time. My only regret it spending time apart from you. Brienne, you are my greatest contribution to this world. My life was worth its weight in gold and more with you._

_Here are some other things you should know: leave my ashes on the beach. Preferably the southern cove, the one we used to fish in. That’s where your mother is. Galladon and the girls too. Don’t turn it into a family plot, but perhaps a family meeting point. Come visit us now and then. If you find a love, or yield children yourself, show them Tarth. I know it wasn’t kind to you, but this land is in our blood and I believe you should reclaim your place if it interests you. If not, fuck off to Dorne. It’s much more temperate during the storm season anyway._

_Our family has a history of cardiovascular disease. I've been told that if weren't the dementia stealing me away, it would be my own heart. Go to the doctor at least twice a year to check on that. Please. If Archie Goodwin is still around (oh he will be, what am I saying), please love him as I did. He is more than a brother or a right hand…my partner in all things. I don’t want him to be lonely. Please bring him one of the rocking chairs from the back porch. Hold on to Gail and that beautiful family of his. Let them take care of you like I no longer can._

_At the University, talk to Gracie. And Ronald. I watched them grow from graduate students to incredibly strong adjunct professors. They’ve been holding on to some things for me. Old diaries and drafts and such. Probably some more books (gods help you, there are so many books- don’t feel like you have to keep them all). Also there’s a safe in the Dean of Students Office. Code is 9-2-3-8-7. Just tell them it was my last request._

_Love hard. Only spend time with people who make you laugh and smile. Eat more vegetables than I did. Remember me as I was, a fool who tried his best. If the blasted president of the university wants to throw a memorial, let them. But only let them read the forward and dedication from my last book. Nothing else. No scriptures, for the love of all that is good. There should still be a loose floorboard in front of the hearth downstairs. I left a good Dorian wine under that for the occasion. I think you’ll like it._

_Look at me rambling. It’s getting harder to hold my thoughts. Brienne you are the finest thing to come out of Tarth. More precious than any stone and stronger than any blade. Sharper than the lot of us, faster than the wind, and brighter than the sun and moon combined. Never forget that. I know that I will lose so much in the coming months. A year if I’m lucky. Forgive me when I can’t recognize your face. Forgive me when I can no longer speak. Know that I will so fiercely cling to the memories of you. Of Brianna. Of Galladon. Know that I will fight to the very end to keep you in the attic of my mind. Safe travels. I pray we meet again. If I have any choice in the next lifetime, we’d do this all over again. Once more, with feeling as they say. I love you._

_Dad_

 

~

 

Archie Goodwin read a few sections of the letter in the eulogy, redacting a few personal pieces and the bit about the safe at Brienne’s request. A couple hundred people showed up, 90% of which Brienne could not name or recognize. She and Jaime sat in a row with the Goodwin kids, Tyrion, Arya, and Sansa. Behind them was Brienne’s T.A., Pod, as well as a handful of their students and colleagues from Riverland. It was a strangely beautiful day, all blue skies and sunshine. In the movies it always rained. They gathered in the sprawling gardens outside Tarth University. Everyone was dressed in shades of blue and grey to match the school’s banner colors. Archie had everyone giggling with silly stories and then weeping after Selwyn’s final letter. The current president of the university gifted Brienne with a ceremonial cloak and tapestry.

 

She sat with the damn silly cloak around her shoulders and the tapestry folded on her lap. When tears blurred her vision she pulled Jaime’s arm into her arm, gripping the prosthetic hand as hard as she could and hiding her face in his shoulder. There was a sharp twinge of panic that mercifully melted away as Jaime rested his head against hers and a few sets of unknown hands reached out to touch her back and shoulders. Gail covered both Jaime and Brienne’s hands with her own as AJ helped his father to his seat.

 

The readings Selwyn requested were beautiful. They were read by another of his former colleagues. His last book was a lesser known work on the history of Tarth, tracking nearly every scrap of evidence that survived the past 10 centuries, but the forward that was read out was more like a love letter to the land and its people. The last few words phrases, written by Selwyn during his last year of teaching, blanketed the gathering in equal parts joy and grief.

 

“No one is ever truly gone. Ripples span time and space. They carry emotions, sociopolitical artifacts, and all that is fair and unfair in love and war. To this day I will swear there were pieces of my father’s soul in my own son, his name sake whom he never got the chance to meet. Every other day my late wife’s spirit flies out of the mouth of my daughter, who has now lived more years without her mother than with.” Jaime pressed his lips to her forehead and caressed her cheek with his hand. She focused on the warmth and squeezed her eyes shut. She could almost hear her father’s voice.

 

"You are so loved." Jaime murmured. 

 

“Character content is an undervalued historical and sociological tool. Tarth defies the odds throughout history not because of strategic land holdings, robust fish-based diets, or clever grain storage. There was no luck but the sort we made. Tarth lives on the backs of brilliant, beautiful, and innovative people. May we know them, be them, raise them, live with them, and fling ourselves into the next world with the joy that embodies life in such good company.”

 

A small choir sung a few old songs and it was all over. Brienne relinquished her grip on Jamie. A long procession formed to shake her hand and bid her well. Jaime stood to the side and slightly behind but kept his hand on the small of her back. After the first dozen well wishers she gave up pretenses, taking a step back to lean on his side. Gracie and Ronald, the faculty mentioned in Selwyn’s letter, introduced themselves quickly. They promised to bring the books and journals by the house the following evening.

 

“You look just like him.” Gracie marveled.

 

“We’ll all be working for you soon.” Ronald joked, pinching the bridge of his nose to hide a tear. “Bless you Brienne. Your father was so loved. It’s a shame this place didn’t treasure you more as a child.”

 

“I’m making peace.” Brienne assured him. “Thank you.” Friends and supporters came last. Pod fiercely embraced Brienne along with Gail and Ann. Tyrion kissed her hand. Sansa tearfully fawned over her former teacher. Arya pressed a flask into her hand and kissed both her cheeks. Their colleagues gave Jaime firm handshakes and slaps on the back, they gave Brienne gentle face touches and kind words. Soon their group was the only ones left on the grounds.

 

“Shall we go back to the house?” Gail suggested.

 

“Or to the farm?” Archie offered.

 

"Start a bonfire?" AJ asked. 

 

“The house.” Brienne decided, reaching for Jaime’s hand. “I’d love for you all to come to the house. He left a special wine for a toast.”

 

“We can order that terrible pizza he loved.” Gail joked. “Pineapple and vegan cheese with ham. The man knew how to ruin a child’s sleepover.” A debate launched amongst the fray over the moral implications of fruit on pizza. Brienne laughed, using her already soaked handful of tissues to blot her cheeks. She handed the house key to Gail.

 

“There’s something I need to look at here, but I’ll meet you there.” Sansa, Arya, and Tyrion tagged along with her and Jaime. Tarth University was a gorgeous, religiously maintained old castle. Brienne toured them through the main levels as she started searching for her father’s so called last request. The Dean of Students office was on the top floor. The door was locked and the room dark, but that never stopped the likes of Arya Stark. Sansa couldn’t stop laughing as her younger sister pulled out a utilitarian looking hair pin and a multi-tool. Tyrion and Jaime dodged to the end of the hall to play lookout. Five minutes and they were in, splitting apart to search the space for the ruddy safe.

 

“Hypothetically, how much trouble would we be in?” Tyrion asked, feeling the underside of the desk.

 

“Between a trespassing fine and a breaking and entering charge? Might be able to pay it out.” Jaime joked.

 

“Mmmm don’t forget conspiracy. And robbery.” Sansa peaked over the top of a bookshelf.

 

“Armed robbery.” Arya supplied ominously, shrugging when everyone stopped to look at her. "A woman never leaves home without a knife." Sansa and Brienne agreed. 

 

“Oi. Got it.” Jaime said. The safe was set in the wall behind a tapestry to the left of the desk. Brienne punched in the code and revealed a dusty jug of whiskey.

 

~

 

Brienne’s childhood home was suddenly full to bursting with people so they moved the liquor and terrible pizza tasting to the back porch and gardens. Everyone looked at Brienne when it came time for the toast. She swallowed and stuttered only for a moment.

 

“M-My father was a great teacher. Famous, as I’m now realizing.” Chuckles rippled through the group. “The greatest lesson he taught me…I- uh...I think it was how to be loved." Jaime caught her eyes. He was beaming. Something warm unfurled in her chest. "I watched him love my mother. My brother. My sisters. I watched him love them even after they were taken away from us. I watched him love his friends. Their children. His students. His work. Tarth, his home. He shingled this roof and nailed down these deck boards. And even when I turned a blind eye to it, I watched him love me. I wanted for nothing. He kissed every skinned knee and hurting head. He helped me heal every self-inflicted wound I allowed him to see. My father was a masterclass in the open heart. I hope I…I hope all of us might carry that on." She exhaled, blinking back a wave of emotions. Jaime nodded encouragingly. "I intend to, at least.”

 

“CHEERS.” Gail hollered. Everyone’s classes of wine and whiskey crashed together. Jaime strode towards her, wrapped both arms around her waist, and held on tight.

 

“Brilliant woman.” He whispered in her ear before kissing just below it.  


	9. How To Hide A Body

It was a brilliant makeshift wake. Gail brought down Brienne’s record player and some select vinyls so they had music, laughter, and plenty of alcohol. After they finished Selwyn’s wine and whiskey, bottles just kept appearing. Hard lemonades and sparkling pink rose were passed around. Brienne’s cheeks were stained pink. She was dizzy, emotionally exhausted, a little drunk, a little sad, and elated all at once. She watched Gail talk animatedly with Sansa and Arya, Jamie and Tyrion with Archie Senior. Worlds were colliding.

 

“Everything alright, Brienne?” Pod topped off her glass.

 

“I can’t believe any of this is happening right now…” She said, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s all so…strange.” He covered her hand and rubbed some warmth into it. “But I get the feeling that everything’s going to be okay.”

 

“Tarth explains a lot about you, boss.” Pod observed, grinning as one of AJ’s boys came sprinting towards them and hid behind their legs. He took a step closer to better the coverage. All the children were playing hide and seek.

 

“How’s that?” Brienne cautiously ran her hand over the small child’s curls, smiling with relief as he looked up and smiled, preening under her attention.

 

“Tough. Wicked cool.” Another child, one that belonged to a Riverland professor, sprinted towards Pod and slapped him on the arm with an open hand.

 

“TAG YOU’RE IT.”

 

“Thems the rules.” Pod handed his drink to Brienne and took off running. She grinned and went to join Gail, who was now in deep conversation with Tyrion and Sansa. The crowd trickled out one or two at a time but the house wasn’t fully quiet or still until midnight. Jaime had to help her up the stairs and into bed.

 

They slept past noon the following day and didn’t rush out of bed. They lingered, heads together with the duvet pulled up to their noses to ward off the chill of the air conditioning. He watched her doze, eyes slowly moving under closed lids. He counted freckles until she slowly blinked and roused for the second time. She smiled wryly and wrinkled her nose.

 

“You’re thinking awfully hard this morning.” She rasped before clearing her throat.

 

“I had a strange dream last night.” He admitted, kissing her forehead.

 

“Do you remember it?”

 

“Falling rocks. Or bricks maybe? Cersei was there. And then there was darkness. I couldn’t move. She was beneath me.” His brow furrowed. She rolled over to lie on her stomach, crossing her arms over his chest, chin propped on her wrist. “Do you think our dreams mean anything?”

 

“I think there’s a lot of explanations for them out there. Do you prefer the empirical or the transcendental?” He grinned, tucking a flyaway hair back.

 

“Not sure yet.”

 

“When Gally and I had nightmares…I remember Dad telling us our brains were just trying to work things out. Fear. Anxiety. Problems of sorts. Mama was a little more existential.” Brienne stared into space, corner of her mouth twitching with nostalgia and amusement. “She said dreams opened doors for communication between worlds and across time.”

 

“Wasn’t that the plot of a movie?”

 

“Hmmm which was that?” She asked.

 

“Your crush, Rose Bryne is in it. Little boy astral projects. Crazy red faced demon.” He made a face in an attempt to mimic the creature in question.

 

“Insidious! Good movie.” She chuckled dryly, rubbing her legs against his and craning up slightly. His arms curled around her back. “Does it matter what they’re about, as long as you get to wake up and find out they’re not real?”

 

“I don’t suppose it does.” He already felt the sensations and memories of the dream dulling and fading. Brienne was a warm and solid weight on his chest and legs. She pressed her lips to his heart, the notch at the base of his throat, and then his forehead. She hovered over him on elbows and combed her fingers through his hair. He beamed under her affections.

 

“I think today’s a good day to take the ashes to the cove.” She brushed her nose against his.

 

“You think?”

 

“Yah.”

 

“If you’re sure, I’m sure.” He said, smiling again.

 

“He wants to be left there. And it’s beautiful. Will you come with me?”

 

“Of course.”

 

He followed her lead. She packed the urn and some towels in a backpack. He made a thermos of coffee and some sandwhiches. She drove them south, back towards the airport and past it for a few miles. She pulled off the road and parked on a gravel lot next to a public beach. She led the way, parallel to the water. Eventually they came to a tree line, which she entered without hesitation. It was a slow, half hour hike with a lightly defined trail. Brienne let her hand fall towards his, wiggling her fingers till Jaime grasped them. He hummed happily.

 

Just as he was starting to break a sweat the trees thinned and they were on another beach, this one vacant. The cove was crescent shaped and the water utterly transparent. Across the water was a rocky cliff face and a waterfall. The beach was unlike anything he had seen- all black sand and smooth, tumbled stones. The rest of the island’s beaches were mixed shades of slate gray, soft white, and tan.

 

“Nobody knows why it’s like that.”

 

“Tarth has one of the most well-endowed geology departments in Westeros.”

 

“An open mystery. Plenty of hypotheses, but no answers yet.”

 

“I like that.” He chuckled. Her hand slipped out of his. She left her backpack on the beach and kicked her sandals off. She pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her in a sports bra and swim trunks. He tripped trying to get out of his shoes and tee shirt. She wrapped her arm around his and showed him how the shallows only extended a few paces. Once they were knee deep the cove bottomed out, plummeting what looked like several hundred feet deep. The transparent water turned a violent sapphire blue. They could see all sorts of fish and coral. It was like an untouched paradise. “Wow.” He murmured.

 

“Ready?”

 

“For wh-?” She took a step forward and pulled them both into the deep. He gave a startled yelp as he found himself neck deep, catching the rim with one arm. She submerged entirely and came up laughing at him. He kicked off the edge with both legs as hard as he could, catching her around the waist and launching them out further. She shrieked, diving down and away. He sucked in a breath and followed.

 

They swam a wide circle around the basin. He felt the edges of several currents where the ocean pushed at the edge of the cove. He felt little fish curiously brushing against his legs and then the powerful thrust of a natural waterfall on his back and neck. She showed him how to gain footing behind the waterfall. The curtain of water sealed them into a rounded cave. Jaime found himself chest deep. The water was warmer and foamy here. She said his name but he couldn’t hear it as much as he saw her lips form the word.

 

Her hands slipped up his chest to cradle his neck. He took her into his arms and tasted the salt water on her neck. It was intoxicating. She kissed him over and over. Every time he attempted to trail down her cheeks she captured his lips again. Soft and slow. Her hands started to shake a little. He cradled her head against his shoulder and let the water buffet them. She rubbed her cheek against his and pet his hair distractedly, looking up at the natural vaulted ceiling above.

 

They swam back to the beach, laying out a towel to sit on. They drank coffee and snacked on Jaime’s sandwiches, letting the sun dry their skin.

 

“Your sweet tooth is going to kill me.” She handed him the remaining half of a peanut butter, banana, and honey on rye.

 

“Sweets for my sweetling.” He kissed her bare shoulder before accepting it. “You’re turning pink.”

 

“Mmm. I could use some color.” They sat quietly, elbows on knees, listening to the water. “I remember Gally…we left him just there.” She pointed to a tree down the beach from them. A cherry blossom was just starting to lose its spring blooms. “The girls I can’t quite remember. I know we came here to do it. Mama…we hiked up to the top and let her go with the waterfall.” She pointed up the cliffs. He leaned to the side just enough to touch her, their arms pressed together from shoulder to elbow. “We all loved fishing. We would come here, bury our rods in the sand, and sit here like this. Or fly fish, with those big boots. We were people of the water, I guess. Despite everything.”

 

“Do you swim in the ocean?”

 

“Not anymore. Not past my waist anyway. I still have dreams about the riptide that took Gally. But it's so calm here, it's something different.”

 

After a few more minutes of silence she reached for the urn, standing and uncapping it. She didn’t go far, just to where the water lapped the sand. He watched her spread the pale ashes in a long thing line, letting them mix in with the dark sand. The water pulled them in and out. She sat beside him again, cross legged, and they watched the remains bleed out and then ever so slowly disappear into the earth and ocean. He cupped her knee and rubbed little circles on her skin with his thumb. She inhaled deeply, a single tear tracking down her cheek.

 

Before he could muster any words she was reaching for the backpack again. She pulled out a little velvet jewelry satchel. Two chains fell into her palm, along with two rings. Silver. Carved to look like braids.

 

“If I asked you to wear my mother’s ring, would you do it?” He was momentarily speechless, watching her slip each ring onto a necklace.

 

“Bri…”

 

“This uh- this isn’t a proposal.” She stammered, hands shaking a little bit as she tried to unclasp one of the chains. Her cheeks were bright red for a different reason now. He caught both her hands in his one and kissed them reverently, repeatedly. He kissed both rings where they lay in her palm and all of her fingers. “All that’s left of my family is…gone. But here you are, wanting me. Wanting to stay. Asking me to move in with you. It means so much to me. And I- I w-want you to know how important you are to me.” She was astonished to find tears falling off his lashes. She freed one hand to catch them. They leaned on each other heavily.

 

“You’ll wear Selwyn’s?” He asked, voice thick and heavy with emotion.

 

“Every day.”

 

“There aren’t words enough to say how honored I’d be to wear Brianna’s.” He put the chains on them both. The rings fell against their sternums.

 

“Archie said this is how my parents wore them.” He pressed his forehead to her temple. “I can’t for the life of me remember them wearing them on their fingers.”

 

“I love you.” He murmured. “Stay. Stay with me. Always.”

 

“As long as I possibly can.” She shut her eyes. “The world told me I wasn’t built for love and I honestly believed it for so long…but I’ve realized- I don’t want anyone’s love but yours.”

 

“It’s yours. Yours alone.” He raised his head to kiss her temple. “And one day, when you decide it is a proposal-” She laughed self consciously, covering her face with her hands. “The answer will be a resounding yes.”   



	10. Hell Yah, We'll Be Okay

When Brienne first moved to Riverrun to teach at Riverland University she instinctively looked for lodgings outside of the hustle and bustle of Harrenhal. She preferred the quieter areas like Seagard, but the long commute would have been deadly. Her little studio was cosy but it was closer to the cottage and farmer’s market filled suburbs that it was the University so she always planned for at least 45 minutes of train transit. It could easily turn into an hour during the rush hours. Jaime lived in a high-rise building downtown, just five minutes walk from their work.

 

They started their search somewhere in between, closer to the university but on the edge of the city’s busiest sector. They fell in love with a quiet little waterfront condo with exposed brick walls and salvaged wood floors. There was a quiet little strip of lake beach to share with the neighbors. The roof top terrance had a view of the Isle of Faces across the bay and it was…perfect.

 

A month after her father’s funeral it was home.

 

~

 

Life without Selwyn Evenstar’s presence on Earth was different. Fundamentally different. The fact didn’t cling to the back of her neck at all hours like she expected, but it hovered somewhere in the back of her mind. Some days when colleagues asked how she was, she smiled. Other days she felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Somedays the solid weight of her father’s wedding ring on her necklace burned into the skin so fiercely she thought she would find black singe marks. But most days it gave her courage and a straight spine. Many times she found herself passing the piece of silver between her fingers while reading or writing, mind wandering to her partner.

 

One time she slowly slid her office chair to the side so she could look through her open door and across the hall. Jaime was reading, feet kicked up on his desk. His shirt was open enough for her to see the chain from which Brianna Evenstar’s ring hung. For some reason that made her heart sing…and her cheeks flame when Jaime looked up. He winked.

 

She had never seen Jaime take it off. Not even once. She couldn’t shower or sleep with any jewelry on. It made her skin crawl for some reason. She couldn’t even manage her undergrad class ring and leather cuff bracelets, which she was never seen without in public. When he rolled over in bed to hold her, joined her in the shower, or attempted to pin her to an available surface she always felt the ring pressed between them. Some days that made her want to weep.

 

All too soon it was August. Their moving boxes were unpacked and they were readying themselves for another school semester, but she felt strangely prepared. Light. Maybe even a little exhilarated. It only took her fifteen minutes to get to work now…give or take another ten if she and Jaime stopped for coffee on the way.

 

~

 

Jaime paced the floor. Kitchen to living room to deck and back again. It would have been fun to tease him, but the adrenaline coursing through her body made it too damn hard to delay. She threw her bag and coat down as she handed him a very official looking letter. Jaime scanned it before nearly shouting with glee, throwing his arms around her and kissing her repeatedly.

 

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” He mumbled, holding her face in his hands and pushing himself up ever so slightly on his toes. “You’re so damn brilliant.”

 

“You don’t think it was a token of sympathy?”

 

“It’s 2019 my love, they don’t just hand tenure to anyone. They’d be happy to pay transient adjunct professors starvation wages till the end of time. They chose you. They want you.” She bit her lip. “Although it would be a tragedy to deny an Evenstar. Think of the lawsuits!” She laughed then, kissing him again.

 

“From who?”

 

“Me, probably.” He snickered, kissing her twice. Quickly. “I knew you’d get it, Bri.” He stroked her cheek. She smiled gratefully and kissed his palm. “I have a surprise waiting on the roof.”

 

“What if I hadn’t gotten tenure?” Brienne let herself be led upstairs, toeing off her shoes as they moved.

 

“Mmmm it would probably still work. I’d be getting good boyfriend points for all the alcohol.” Their deck table and chairs were dressed with white linens. Candles were lit. Food was plated and covered with fancy steel domes she had never seen before. Champagne and wine were waiting in a bucket of ice.

 

“You’re too much.” She said, so quiet it was almost carried off by the breeze.

 

“The sun sets have been beautiful lately.” He was right. They ate and they drank. He fixed her coffee and made her sit while he cleaned up. She suggested a stroll on the lake shore and he agreed, sliding his fingers between hers as they walked barefoot in the sand, water splashing over their ankles. The sky was almost black. The stars were coming out. “Did you add the germanic texts to your women’s history class syllabus?” He asked. They had idly discussed work over dinner.

 

“Mmhm.” She nodded. “Why?”

 

“Gonna get you a new nameplate for your door. Herr Doktor Evenshtar.” His accent was terrible and where that idea struck him was beyond her.

 

“Frau Doktor.” She elbowed him. “Weirdo.”

 

“Hey-” He came to a stop and tugged on her hand, pulling her close. “What are you thinking? What are you feeling?”

 

“I’m thinking… “ She looked out across the water before meeting his eyes, “I’m thinking of how incapable I used to feel of being this happy.” He stroked her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m thinking of all the things I wish I could say to myself as a child. And to my father now.” Jaime’s face was soft and open. She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

 

“Yes.” He agreed. “What would you say to them?” He slipped his hand up her side, starting to clumsily pick at the collar and top two buttons of her dress shirt. She would have shoved him off had she not sensed the purpose was to press tender kisses to the crook of her neck and collarbone. She slipped one hand into his back pocket and stroked the back of his neck with the other.

 

“I get to have it all. Wait a little longer. It’s so worth it.” She decided.

 

“Oh my wild wench.” She snorted at the old nick name, which had fallen almost entirely out of circulation these days. He cinched both arms around her waist. “You’re everything and more.”

 

She took a long bath. He answered emails in the study. She lounged in bed with her iPad. He locked up and took a shower. She turned off all the lights. He opened up the curtains and got into bed, resting his head on her stomach and curling around her legs. They watched the night move. Clouds were rolling in, so she suspected they would get some rain. A car alarm blared and then shut off abruptly. He traced patterns on her thighs.

 

“What are you thinking?” She volleyed back at him, ruffling his hair.

 

“You’re the answer to prayers I didn’t know I sent.” Her spine tingled.

 

“What’s that from?”

 

“My brain.” She tugged on his hair. “Ow.” He laughed. “I’m serious.” He kissed her stomach. “All those things you’re feeling- that elation and peace and satisfaction…I’m feeling it too.” She breathed deeply, going back to petting him. “I’ve never felt safer. Or happier. I’m really glad you’re here with me.” She thought about their home. Their study looked a bit like her father's. It had one of his desks in it. Their bedside tables were from her parents' master bedroom. Their coffee table too. But they had curated the rest of their spaces: blending book collections and furniture. Everything smelled like the cedar candles she loved to burn. Their bedroom was dressed in light blues and pale reds. Best of all: framed photos and art. If she turned her head to the side she'd find a photo of herself on his side table, one of them both framed outside of the closet door. They were on Gail's fishing boat. She was sitting on the deck, he was reclined between her thighs. They looked peaceful, soaking up the sun like that. Together.   

 

“Me too.” She agreed, surfacing from her thoughts. 

 

“Good.” A mist started to fall over the lake. Soon they would hear water rattling their gutters and tapping on their windows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind words. Until next time! xoxo


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